Muscle Memory, for millari
Title: Muscle Memory
Author: blue_crow
Summary: Gaius attempts to reestablish his connection with Felix on Earth.
Characters: Baltar, Gaeta, mention of Caprica Six
Pairing: Baltar/Gaeta, implied former Baltar/Caprica
Wordcount: 1,860
Rating: R
SPOILERS: Through "Daybreak Part II"
remix of millari's original, Muscle Memory
Warnings: Minor amounts of d/s, mentions of amputated limbs
Muscle Memory
Everything had happened before, and it would all happen again. The details change, but somehow things play themselves out exactly the same way every time, shadows of the past cast over the present. He realizes that he will always find himself on Felix's threshold, begging to come in, and Felix will always let him. Felix will always absolve his sins.
The embers of the celebratory bonfire seem to absorb more light than they put out, throwing long shadows over the tight circle of huts, and what he needs isn't so much a lover as a confessor. For hours he'd watched the circles of dancers, interwoven patterns that were straight out of his childhood on Aerilon, but the revelers were long gone to their huts and scattered sounds of lovemaking cut the drone of summer insects. Once he would have been the first to steal away with a lover, but he had no one left.
Now he stands, anxious and uneasy before the one hut that was farthest from the others. He wraps his prophet's robe about himself more tightly, as if to protect himself from the heavy summer night. The cloth door ripples in the wind, and he isn't sure if the sign is welcoming or foreboding.
"Felix, please," he begs, his fingers seeking a hold on the curtain, pushing it aside. "May I come in?"
Quiet laughter echos, and then Gaius hears the scrape of crutches on the dirt. His pulse catches, and he prays silently that his oldest friend is not standing only to throw him out. Anxiously, he pushes the door open long enough to slip inside. The space is small enough that he is aware of the blood in his veins. A sudden uneven clatter, a soft grunt, and he instinctively lunges forward to catch Felix, forcing him to regain his balance by pressing his whole body against him.
"Gaius, I can handle it," Felix protests, gruff against his ear. It had been a long time since he'd heard his voice, and he is reluctant to let him go. He can hardly remember the last time he'd held him like this, and he tightens his arms around his ribcage to reassure himself that this is real.
"I miss you," he pleads, into the tangle of curls against his cheek.
"Liar." For a second, it feels like Felix is going to push him away, and one of his hands forces itself between them, tensing on his robe, before snaking up around his neck to force him closer instaed. And then Felix is kissing him like he'd always wanted him to, forcing his tongue into his mouth, biting at his lips. It tears Gaius's breath away from him and leaves him defenseless.
He couldn't have imagined how strong Felix still is, and a shove sends him reeling backwards, tripping down onto the bed and falling back, scraping against the solid side of the hut before collapsing. Before he can get his bearings, Felix has closed in on him, and he's bending down over him, a hand pressing down on his chest. Impatiently, Felix shoves the robe open, reaching down to tug at the belt but Gaius knows what Felix wants, and hurries to satisfy him. In the dark, touch is even more important, and he is eager to be vulnerable.
Gaius can only pray that Felix will welcome him back into his life. He'd gone for years without calling on him. Caprica's absence left a sudden hole in his excuses, but it is the midsummer festival that's forced his memories of the groundbreaking celebration on New Caprica to the surface. The first night that he'd lain with Felix flood back as Felix's fingers ghost over his stomach. They fumble anxiously with the makeshift ties on his homespun pants before abandoning them, shoving inside to make skin contact. His fingers tighten around Gaius's cock, quickly bringing it to arousal.
"I want you naked. Completely."
On Colonial One, while he was president and not a farmer, he'd begged Felix to play games with him, to dominate him for his pleasure. He'd tried to incite him into anger, into treating him as roughly as he wanted to be treated. By then, Felix was too disgusted with him to touch him, and Gaius couldn't imagine why he'd chosen now to exercise control. This is not the decadent fantasy he'd had, this is something far more real and more is at stake than his pleasure. He makes quick work of his clothing, baring his skin to the night air. In the darkness, he can't read Felix's face for approval.
Felix's hand catches his, moving it to his belt. The achingly familiar sensation of the plastic clip-buckle, the way he needs to press his thumb and index finger together to slide the belt open, to access the button and zipper on his pants sends a tremor down Gaius's back, and he stares up into the darkness for an answer he'll never receive.
"Use your mouth," Felix orders as Gaius peels the final layers of clothing away to expose him. Obedient, almost anxious, he leans in to run his tongue over his cock. Felix tastes clean, his skin almost sweet. Gaius has no interest in teasing, and welcomes him into his mouth, up to his gag reflex, and suppressing a shudder, beyond it, tearing a whine out of his throat. Strong fingers slide into his hair, balling into fists and sternly yanking him back, only to force Gaius down again, filling him.
The hands set his pace, and Gaius disregards his comfort for Felix's pleasure. He's not sure he's ever worked this hard to please Felix. He never took what he wanted into account, he knows that he was rough and uncaring, self-indulgent and demanding, that he expected Felix to satisfy appetites when he was just fresh from seducing women, from betraying the human race. Lightheaded, he begins to feel that if he can just get this right, that maybe it isn't too late for Felix to love him again.
Felix whimpers softly in admission of his pleasure, and his fingers slide from Gaius's hair to grip the back of his neck. After a few more thrusts, he rewards Gaius with a loud moan, hips bucking against his mouth. Gaius can't help but gag, unable to accommodate everything, and wipes his face clean with his hand, hoping that it is too dark for etiquette to matter. Felix lets his crutches drop away, and he pushes Gaius back, against the wall. There isn't space on the cot for them to lay on their backs, so they lay on their sides, facing each other, the way Gaius and Caprica used to share an identical bed.
Even once Gaius can see his expression, he can't read it. His lover's eyes are judgmental, still administering some unknown test. They search each other for a moment, and Gaius hooks one arm around Felix, tracing fingers down his jacket, undoing it button by button, the path from his shoulder to his navel. He's undone those exact buttons more times than he can recall. The familiar ritual of undressing Felix calms his anxieties for a moment.
Felix arches against him to shed the jacket, to free his arms of it, and allows Gaius to remove his racerback tanks as well, but protests, "No, Gaius," when his hands seek out his waistband.
"I miss you," Gaius protests and that convinces Felix to indulge him. It pains him to feel how thin Felix has become on Earth, how pronounced his hip bones are, but the stump of what used to be his knee is less angry than he expected. He traces his fingers over it, wanting to soothe him. He wants him to know that it was never the injury that kept him away. He has a million excuses, he always did, and tonight he has simply run out of them.
"We'll have to make some adjustments, of course," he murmurs against Felix's neck, a disguised plea. He hopes that if he's good enough, Felix will welcome him into his life, and he'll make any change to himself he has to. He just doesn't want to be alone again.
Felix wraps fingers around his cock, and Gaius almost stops him. It feels like a transgression, like something so removed from his original purpose, but he is still hard, and the touch is pleasurable. Felix is damp with sweat against him, and he forces himself to relax, to enjoy what's being offered. His lover laughs softly as he strokes him, echoing the same way it did before he'd entered the hovel.
"Well, I've always thought it was pretty impressive, myself," Gaius murmurs, trying anything to get a reaction out of Felix that's more than the sparse words and moans, but nothing comes, so he tries again. "I never heard you complain."
Instead Felix shoves Gaius back against the wall, taking back the control he'd had earlier, stroking him faster. Had he really wanted Felix to be so controlling, so cold? Had his sordid writings and post-coital pleas for domination turned Felix into this? Felix's mouth devours his neck, sure to leave marks for the morning. The actions seem unlike Felix, so much more like another old lover, but each stroke of his hand along his cock makes him moan.
"I... I..." He can't seem to say it, aroused as he is, and his fingers twine in the coverlet. He doesn't want it to have been his selfishness that brought this about. Begging for even footing, he pleas, "I won't hurt you again. I promise."
"Let's wait on that one, all right?" Felix directs into his neck, his mouth sliding up to kiss his cheek, almost reprimanding him. His tone is harsh. "How about a promise we're sure you can keep?"
"Wh-what?" The words are torn out of him.
"How about this?" Felix proposes, still stern, hardly like the innocent Gaius remembers from the first day he spent on the Galactica. "How about you come for me? Right now, right here?"
Felix doesn't sound like himself as he chants against his lips, "Come for me, Gaius. Come for me. Come for me." Gaius doesn't want this kind of treatment, and his breath is shallow and panicky. His body is farther ahead than his mind, and it listens, arching up against his hand of its own accord. He moans and shudders, his anxiety at bay for seconds before surrounding him. Felix's actions were unsuited to his character, unsuited even to Gaius's fantasies, and reminded him more of the red-dressed vixen who had once visited him.
His lover pets a trail over his stomach, trying to soothe him. When Felix offers him his hand, he dutifully licks it clean. He isn't sure of the exact fate he's just fallen into, but he's resigned himself to it, willing to keep his promise.
“Where do we go from here?” Gaius asks after a long silence. He's not even sure who he's asking, anymore. But he's not alone.
Author: blue_crow
Summary: Gaius attempts to reestablish his connection with Felix on Earth.
Characters: Baltar, Gaeta, mention of Caprica Six
Pairing: Baltar/Gaeta, implied former Baltar/Caprica
Wordcount: 1,860
Rating: R
SPOILERS: Through "Daybreak Part II"
remix of millari's original, Muscle Memory
Warnings: Minor amounts of d/s, mentions of amputated limbs
Muscle Memory
Everything had happened before, and it would all happen again. The details change, but somehow things play themselves out exactly the same way every time, shadows of the past cast over the present. He realizes that he will always find himself on Felix's threshold, begging to come in, and Felix will always let him. Felix will always absolve his sins.
The embers of the celebratory bonfire seem to absorb more light than they put out, throwing long shadows over the tight circle of huts, and what he needs isn't so much a lover as a confessor. For hours he'd watched the circles of dancers, interwoven patterns that were straight out of his childhood on Aerilon, but the revelers were long gone to their huts and scattered sounds of lovemaking cut the drone of summer insects. Once he would have been the first to steal away with a lover, but he had no one left.
Now he stands, anxious and uneasy before the one hut that was farthest from the others. He wraps his prophet's robe about himself more tightly, as if to protect himself from the heavy summer night. The cloth door ripples in the wind, and he isn't sure if the sign is welcoming or foreboding.
"Felix, please," he begs, his fingers seeking a hold on the curtain, pushing it aside. "May I come in?"
Quiet laughter echos, and then Gaius hears the scrape of crutches on the dirt. His pulse catches, and he prays silently that his oldest friend is not standing only to throw him out. Anxiously, he pushes the door open long enough to slip inside. The space is small enough that he is aware of the blood in his veins. A sudden uneven clatter, a soft grunt, and he instinctively lunges forward to catch Felix, forcing him to regain his balance by pressing his whole body against him.
"Gaius, I can handle it," Felix protests, gruff against his ear. It had been a long time since he'd heard his voice, and he is reluctant to let him go. He can hardly remember the last time he'd held him like this, and he tightens his arms around his ribcage to reassure himself that this is real.
"I miss you," he pleads, into the tangle of curls against his cheek.
"Liar." For a second, it feels like Felix is going to push him away, and one of his hands forces itself between them, tensing on his robe, before snaking up around his neck to force him closer instaed. And then Felix is kissing him like he'd always wanted him to, forcing his tongue into his mouth, biting at his lips. It tears Gaius's breath away from him and leaves him defenseless.
He couldn't have imagined how strong Felix still is, and a shove sends him reeling backwards, tripping down onto the bed and falling back, scraping against the solid side of the hut before collapsing. Before he can get his bearings, Felix has closed in on him, and he's bending down over him, a hand pressing down on his chest. Impatiently, Felix shoves the robe open, reaching down to tug at the belt but Gaius knows what Felix wants, and hurries to satisfy him. In the dark, touch is even more important, and he is eager to be vulnerable.
Gaius can only pray that Felix will welcome him back into his life. He'd gone for years without calling on him. Caprica's absence left a sudden hole in his excuses, but it is the midsummer festival that's forced his memories of the groundbreaking celebration on New Caprica to the surface. The first night that he'd lain with Felix flood back as Felix's fingers ghost over his stomach. They fumble anxiously with the makeshift ties on his homespun pants before abandoning them, shoving inside to make skin contact. His fingers tighten around Gaius's cock, quickly bringing it to arousal.
"I want you naked. Completely."
On Colonial One, while he was president and not a farmer, he'd begged Felix to play games with him, to dominate him for his pleasure. He'd tried to incite him into anger, into treating him as roughly as he wanted to be treated. By then, Felix was too disgusted with him to touch him, and Gaius couldn't imagine why he'd chosen now to exercise control. This is not the decadent fantasy he'd had, this is something far more real and more is at stake than his pleasure. He makes quick work of his clothing, baring his skin to the night air. In the darkness, he can't read Felix's face for approval.
Felix's hand catches his, moving it to his belt. The achingly familiar sensation of the plastic clip-buckle, the way he needs to press his thumb and index finger together to slide the belt open, to access the button and zipper on his pants sends a tremor down Gaius's back, and he stares up into the darkness for an answer he'll never receive.
"Use your mouth," Felix orders as Gaius peels the final layers of clothing away to expose him. Obedient, almost anxious, he leans in to run his tongue over his cock. Felix tastes clean, his skin almost sweet. Gaius has no interest in teasing, and welcomes him into his mouth, up to his gag reflex, and suppressing a shudder, beyond it, tearing a whine out of his throat. Strong fingers slide into his hair, balling into fists and sternly yanking him back, only to force Gaius down again, filling him.
The hands set his pace, and Gaius disregards his comfort for Felix's pleasure. He's not sure he's ever worked this hard to please Felix. He never took what he wanted into account, he knows that he was rough and uncaring, self-indulgent and demanding, that he expected Felix to satisfy appetites when he was just fresh from seducing women, from betraying the human race. Lightheaded, he begins to feel that if he can just get this right, that maybe it isn't too late for Felix to love him again.
Felix whimpers softly in admission of his pleasure, and his fingers slide from Gaius's hair to grip the back of his neck. After a few more thrusts, he rewards Gaius with a loud moan, hips bucking against his mouth. Gaius can't help but gag, unable to accommodate everything, and wipes his face clean with his hand, hoping that it is too dark for etiquette to matter. Felix lets his crutches drop away, and he pushes Gaius back, against the wall. There isn't space on the cot for them to lay on their backs, so they lay on their sides, facing each other, the way Gaius and Caprica used to share an identical bed.
Even once Gaius can see his expression, he can't read it. His lover's eyes are judgmental, still administering some unknown test. They search each other for a moment, and Gaius hooks one arm around Felix, tracing fingers down his jacket, undoing it button by button, the path from his shoulder to his navel. He's undone those exact buttons more times than he can recall. The familiar ritual of undressing Felix calms his anxieties for a moment.
Felix arches against him to shed the jacket, to free his arms of it, and allows Gaius to remove his racerback tanks as well, but protests, "No, Gaius," when his hands seek out his waistband.
"I miss you," Gaius protests and that convinces Felix to indulge him. It pains him to feel how thin Felix has become on Earth, how pronounced his hip bones are, but the stump of what used to be his knee is less angry than he expected. He traces his fingers over it, wanting to soothe him. He wants him to know that it was never the injury that kept him away. He has a million excuses, he always did, and tonight he has simply run out of them.
"We'll have to make some adjustments, of course," he murmurs against Felix's neck, a disguised plea. He hopes that if he's good enough, Felix will welcome him into his life, and he'll make any change to himself he has to. He just doesn't want to be alone again.
Felix wraps fingers around his cock, and Gaius almost stops him. It feels like a transgression, like something so removed from his original purpose, but he is still hard, and the touch is pleasurable. Felix is damp with sweat against him, and he forces himself to relax, to enjoy what's being offered. His lover laughs softly as he strokes him, echoing the same way it did before he'd entered the hovel.
"Well, I've always thought it was pretty impressive, myself," Gaius murmurs, trying anything to get a reaction out of Felix that's more than the sparse words and moans, but nothing comes, so he tries again. "I never heard you complain."
Instead Felix shoves Gaius back against the wall, taking back the control he'd had earlier, stroking him faster. Had he really wanted Felix to be so controlling, so cold? Had his sordid writings and post-coital pleas for domination turned Felix into this? Felix's mouth devours his neck, sure to leave marks for the morning. The actions seem unlike Felix, so much more like another old lover, but each stroke of his hand along his cock makes him moan.
"I... I..." He can't seem to say it, aroused as he is, and his fingers twine in the coverlet. He doesn't want it to have been his selfishness that brought this about. Begging for even footing, he pleas, "I won't hurt you again. I promise."
"Let's wait on that one, all right?" Felix directs into his neck, his mouth sliding up to kiss his cheek, almost reprimanding him. His tone is harsh. "How about a promise we're sure you can keep?"
"Wh-what?" The words are torn out of him.
"How about this?" Felix proposes, still stern, hardly like the innocent Gaius remembers from the first day he spent on the Galactica. "How about you come for me? Right now, right here?"
Felix doesn't sound like himself as he chants against his lips, "Come for me, Gaius. Come for me. Come for me." Gaius doesn't want this kind of treatment, and his breath is shallow and panicky. His body is farther ahead than his mind, and it listens, arching up against his hand of its own accord. He moans and shudders, his anxiety at bay for seconds before surrounding him. Felix's actions were unsuited to his character, unsuited even to Gaius's fantasies, and reminded him more of the red-dressed vixen who had once visited him.
His lover pets a trail over his stomach, trying to soothe him. When Felix offers him his hand, he dutifully licks it clean. He isn't sure of the exact fate he's just fallen into, but he's resigned himself to it, willing to keep his promise.
“Where do we go from here?” Gaius asks after a long silence. He's not even sure who he's asking, anymore. But he's not alone.